We Do It In The Dark
by pixiewayro
Summary: Christine has been fascinated with Mister Way, ever since she started high school. Her best friend, Amanda keeps telling her to seduce him, but Christine keeps insisting it's a horrible idea. BUT what if, one day, she just...does it? What would happen? Then add his wife to the mix, and what do you get? [GERARD WAY/LINDSEY WAY/OFC]
1. Chapter 1

**[CHRISTINE]**

"Dude, I am soooo happy right now," Amanda sighs, allowing her skin to greedily soak up the afternoon sun.

"I know," Christine agrees, "this is the happiest we'll ever be. We should stay right here."

Amanda lazily rolls her head to the side to look at Christine with a quite amused expression on her face. "What? Right here in your backyard by the pool?"

"Mmhmm,"Christine sighs, sipping on her ice tea, before allowing her eyes to slip shut once more in contentment.

"But wouldn't your creepy neighbour always be staring then? I mean, I already only wear a one piece here, because of him," she says indignantly, motioning to her bright purple bathing suit, even though Christine has absolutely no interest in going through the daunting task of opening her eyes to look at her best friend.

"Brian is not a pervert," Christine chuckles, "or 'creepy', hun. He only always looks when he sees you here, because it's _you_. It doesn't matter what you wear, because I'm pretty sure he's looking at your face…most of the time."

"Yeah, whatever," Amanda stretched, getting a little more comfortable. "It sucks that we can't do this for much longer, though."

"I know," Christine sighs. "Is it just me, or did summer end way too quickly?"

"Tell me about it. I can't even think of a single good reason to go back to school tomorrow."

"Well…" Christine trails off, because, well, she _can_ think of a reason.

"Oh," Amanda says seriously, popping her bright pink sunglasses up onto her head, fully facing Christine, "speaking of Mister Way," she continues, "when are you planning on bending over for him?"

A sigh is ripped from deep within Christine's very soul at those words, as she turns to look back at her extremely inappropriate best friend, without removing her own shades.

"Never."

"Oh, honey," Amanda sighs dramatically, like she is somehow pained by the very thought. "Why not?"

"It's a terrible idea," Christine replies flatly, lying back comfortable to resume soaking the sun into her skin.

Somewhere inside her, there is a voice screaming at her that she should never have admitted to having a crush on Mister Way, no matter how dreamy he is, because, even though Amanda was cool about it at first, she's been bugging Christine about doing something about it for over a year now. At first when she started suggesting that Christine spread her legs for him, she simply thought that Amanda was kidding. Now, though, they don't really have one day go by without having at least some version of the same conversation.

Obviously, the idea of getting under Mister Way sounds highly appealing, but Christine thinks it might be best not to mention that to Amanda. She doesn't actually need to, anyway. Amanda is like some creepy mind-reader when it comes to things Christine wants to keep locked up in the privacy of her own thoughts; or, at least, when it comes to her dark and dirty fantasies about Mister Way.

"Admit it," Amanda says casually. "You want his cock."

_Well…yeah!_

"No."

"Oh, come on," Amanda persists, suddenly on top of Christine, pinning her hands down next to her head. "Just say it. Say you want his big. Fat. Juicy. Delicious-"

"You're insane," Christine cuts her off, squirming beneath her, letting a few giggles slip despite herself. "Get off me!"

"-illegal cock," Amanda continues smoothly, not really thrown off her tracks by Christine's efforts. "I won't get off of you until you admit it."

Christine sighs, going pliant under Amanda's weight on her, too lazy in the afternoon sun to struggle much. She knows Amanda will tire eventually, anyway.

"You know," she grins lazily, "I can just imagine the look on Brian's face if he saw us now."

Bingo. That has Amanda quickly scrambling off of her, pulling her t-shirt over her head.

"Well, we don't wanna entice your creepy neighbour, just because you won't admit that you want Mister Way's enormous cock; or, at least, that you agree with me that it would be a great idea."

"In what universe would it be a good idea!?" Christine demands. "And why exactly are we suddenly discussing his genitals? And how the fuck would you know if he's big?"

"It is a good idea. It's a _very_ good idea. It's an _amazing_ idea," Amanda insists. "Also, you know better than anyone else about that one particular pair of pants he sometimes wears. You know? The one that really…hugs…his…cock."

Christine really does know. In fact, she knows he wears at least four of those to school sometimes. She's not going to point _that_ out, though.

"That can be deceiving," she says instead, very casually.

"Well then you want to make sure, don't you?"

"Amanda," Christine groans, "I am _not_ going to do anything with him. It's a horrible idea, dude."

"Why?"

"Because he's a teacher."

Even as she says it, she knows it won't work. Amanda always counters that argument with the same response. '_Yeah, but he's an_ art _teacher. They are not like regular teachers._'

"You know what I always say about art teachers," Amanda waves her off. "Your argument is invalid."

"He's twenty eight," Christine tries again.

"So?" Amanda asks. "That only means he's got experience, and he'll know what he's doing when he's making sweet, sweet love to you."

Christine sighs, pointedly ignoring the image her best friend just popped into her head. "You seem to be forgetting a little detail, though," she says. "He's _married._ I don't think he'd stray from his wife, dude."

"Why not?"

_Maybe because he doesn't desperately need to get spectacularly laid, like YOU?_

"I've actually _seen_ his wife. Trust me, he won't stray."

"I've seen her too, you know. I still think you need to get under him. You know? He would love getting with you; so young and hot…"

"You need to get laid," Christine says firmly. "Also, 'young and hot'? Have _you_ seen his wife? He already gets that at home."

"I do _not_ need to get laid. And, yeah, I have seen her. She's okay."

Christine simply raises an eyebrow at her. Nobody who ever met Lindsey Way would ever think she's just okay; nobody in their right mind, anyway.

"Fine," Amanda relents. "She's really gorgeous, but I was definitely not going to help my case by saying that."

"You don't really have much of a case, anyway," Christine points out, just for the official record, because it needs to be out there. "And I stand by what I said; you really need to get laid. You can't keep pining for Frank forever, and you know it."

It was probably a low blow, but it's definitely true. Amanda hasn't allowed herself to be with a guy since Frank moved away.

"I'm not pining, okay?" Amanda snaps. "I just don't want a guy right now."

"Okay," Christine allows; she had learned long ago that there is no arguing with Amanda on the particular topic.

"Oh, look," Amanda says drily. "Your not-at-all-pervy neighbour is there."

Sure enough, there Brian is, out in his backyard. He isn't being pervy, though.

"Oh, yeah," Christine replies sarcastically. "He's out in his own yard, playing with his dogs. Oh, we simply have to alert the police."

Even though Amanda doesn't say it, Christine can tell she's _thinking_ that Brian only looked for an excuse to go outside to check her out, because his creepy pervy senses tingled, alerting him of her presence.

Waking up on the first day of school always sucks, no matter which way you dish it up. Waking up on the first day of school to your phone's alarm clock blaring the graphic sounds of "Innocent High" by BOTDF, though, that's quite an interesting experience.

Not sure whether she wants to groan or burst out laughing, Christine reaches for her phone to silence the alarm.

_Teacher, teacher, teacher, show me your chest_, she texts Amanda, knowing that she was the one to change her alarm settings, and would immediately know what it's about.

Sure enough, Christine barely has to wait two minutes for a reply. _Ring the school bell, it's time for recess!_

The two trade texts with the lyrics to the rather inappropriate song for a while, before they put it on hold to get ready. Christine does listen to the song on repeat while she's doing so, though, because she got quite into it now. She sings along to the words as she showers and dresses; and when she meets her parents in the kitchen for breakfast, she's a little surprised to find them singing along.

"How do you guys know the words?" she chuckles, not quite sure how she feels about it.

"Honey," her dad rolls his eyes, "we know the words to every song you love, because you don't exactly keep your music quiet from us."

_Fair enough._

"Anyway," he adds, checking his watch. "I have to run. Have a good day, ladies," he says cheerily, kissing her mom, then bending down to kiss her cheek too.

Her mother clears up the dishes from breakfast, and Christine quietly wonders whether she'd ever find what her parents have; because they are so happy, even after years of being married.


	2. Chapter 2

**[GERARD]**

Gerard groans unhappily, grabbing his phone from the nightstand to silence the stupid alarm.

"It's your turn to make coffee," he moans, tossing his phone back onto the nightstand, burying his face in the pillow.

Lindsey rolls over onto her side, hovering over him, placing kisses to his neck and shoulder.

"You can't fall back asleep, baby," she whispers into his skin. "First day, remember?"

Gerard releases another groan, rolling over beneath her.

"Hi," he whispers, giving his wife a sleepy smile.

"Hi," she grins, bending down to kiss him sweetly, pulling away quickly. "I guess I have to go make coffee," she sighs, "but you cannot fall back asleep."

She attempts to get up to go make the coffee, but Gerard holds her down, pinning her body in place on the bed. He kisses along her jawline, down her neck, along her clavicle. He greets every freckle on her shoulder with tiny brushes of his lips.

"Gee," she sighs.

"Mmmm," Gerard sighs into her skin, "shh."

He glides his hands under her little red nightdress (the one with the frilly black lace, which he got her for her birthday), caressing the smooth skin beneath, causing her entire body to erupt in goose bumps beneath the light touch. His hands land over her breasts, and he massages them gently.

"Shit," she breathes, arching into his touch.

Gerard glides a hand down her abdomen, tracing his index finger around her navel, and then runs it down to her panties. He runs his finger along the elastic teasingly, before guiding his hand inside. She spreads her legs a little, to give him better access, pulling him into a heated kiss. He rubs at her clit at a leisurely pace, alternating between speeding up and slowing back down again; knowing this drives her absolutely insane.

"Gee, fuck," she breaks the kiss to gasp and he takes the opportunity to lightly suck on the dip between her shoulder and neck, speeding up his hand's actions, done with teasing her.

Lindsey moans, her chest heaving with every breath, and she exhales his name in long, drawn out syllables as she comes. She's still coming down from her high, trying to regulate her unsteady breathing, when Gerard lifts her nightdress enough to expose her breasts, cupping them in his hands, squeezing gently.

"Damn," he sighs, bending down to suck a nipple into his mouth. "There's nothing better than this in the morning."

"Definitely not," Lindsey agrees, loving the gentle attention she's receiving.

"How about," Gerard grins, "you go make the coffee, and then we'll both have enough strength for me to fuck you good in the shower?"

"Ooooh," Lindsey smirks, rolling him over onto the mattress, straddling his waist. "I like that," she assures, bending down to kiss him, dragging his bottom lip out between her teeth.

Before it gets to turn into anything more, something they both definitely need more caffeine for, Lindsey slides off of him, swaying her hips a little as she heads to the kitchen.

"Tease," Gerard groans, stretching out his still-tired limbs.

"Not a tease, if I'm gonna put out," Lindsey assures him from the hallway.

He wasn't aware that she'd heard him, but it makes him giggle none the less.

He's slightly more alert by the time she returns to the bedroom, their pair of favourite purple mugs in hand, filled with steamy caffeinated goodness.

"Here you go, slacker."

"I love you," Gerard moans his reply, gratefully accepting his mug, taking a greedy gulp from it. "Mmmm," he sighs in delight.

They both inhale their coffee at impressive speed, before reluctantly getting up to get ready for their respective day's ahead.

Gerard definitely makes good on his promise to fuck his wife good in the shower, though. Their bare skin feels so slick, their bodies sliding together almost violently. The contrast between the hot water raining down on them, and the cool of the tiles against Lindsey's back, has them both gasping and clawing frantically at each other. They just don't seem able to get close enough to each other, and they nearly black out as they reach their peak. The moment is so hot, so intense, so perfect, that they barely come a few moments apart.

"This is definitely," Lindsey pants, "my favourite way to start the day." And Gerard can only agree with that.

After their shower, they both definitely feel more charged for the day; and before they know it, they're already parting ways.

On his way to school, Gerard is a little surprised to find that he's actually quite excited for the new school year. It would be fun to see the students again – he'll get plenty of opportunities to hear about the stupid shit they do; he'll see what scandals they make; there would be plenty to laugh and cringe about; and he'll get the opportunity to teach them, and watch them grow.

The first day back is always different than the rest, anyway. Well, they are for him, at least. On the first day, he spends all of the periods getting the students to open up about how their summers were, and what they were up to. He always paints them a colourful picture of his own summer in return.

"Yo, Mr Way," Andrew, one of Gerard's seniors this year, says, beating Gerard to the punch, "how was your summer?"

"Oh, Andrew," Gerard says dramatically, "my summer was awesome! See, my beautiful wife was still working, so I spent quite a few days doing nothing but lounging around in my underwear. It was great. Also, hey, I was an awesome little housewife. I cleaned the house, got a little red apron, and everything."

"No shit?" Andrew smirks, the entire class in giggles over Gerard's story.

"No shit," Gerard grins. "Sent her pictures of me in the apron at work too. Let's just say," he smirks, "that she was _very_ grateful for my contribution."

"Nice," Andrew laughs. "Hey, can we see a picture of this apron?"

"Well," Gerard chuckles, "if you all behave very nicely, I might just bring a framed copy to hang up on the wall in my office."

The entire class is excited about _that_ idea, but Gerard quickly decides to give the students a turn to recall their summers, eager to hear some of their stories. There was a ton of 'summer job', 'beach', and 'visiting relatives' stories, as usual.

When he lands on Christine, his interest is piqued, though. She goes on to tell about how she spent a lot of time hanging out with friends, shopping, sunbathing (especially the three weeks she'd spent at a relative's beach house); and Gerard sort of tunes out a little. He can still hear her talking, but can't really make sense of the words, because all he can imagine is her lying spread out on a towel beneath the warm rays of the sun. He can tell she got a pretty good tan over the summer too.

He clears his throat, shaking these thoughts from his mind, gratefully allowing other students their chances to relive their summers.

The rest of the day goes by in much the same fashion, and Gerard is very grateful when he can finally spend the night relaxing with his beautiful wife. They eat a heap of Chinese takeout, drink some wine, and watch some reruns of _F.R.I.E.N.D.S._ They're on the episode where Rachel and Ross have the lists of people they're allowed to sleep with, when Gerard jokingly asks Lindsey who she has on _her_ list.

"Well," she says seriously, seemingly thinking it over a bit, "There's Johnny Depp, Grant Morrison, Joan Jett, Pete-"

"Woah!" Gerard cuts her off. "The rest I can understand, but…Pete? Really?"

"Why not?" she grins. "He's hot!"

"My little brother's best friend?" Gerard checks. "The dude we suspected for _months_ was actually his boyfriend? _That_ Pete?"

Lindsey rolls her eyes. "There's nothing wrong with Pete," she says. "I mean, not that much. Not enough to prevent him from being on a list of people worthy of getting naked with."

"If you say so," Gerard snorts.

"Okay, then," Lindsey says determinedly. "Let's hear _your_ list!"

"Hmm," Gerard muses, "well, I gotta agree with Joan Jett," he grins. "Also, Alyssa Jones, uhm…"

"The Maths teacher?" Lindsey snorts. "Good luck with that. That woman has no idea where she left her vagina."

"She's hot, okay?!" Gerard protests, but laughs anyway.

He's about to expand on his list, maybe freak his wife out by mentioning a student, when she suddenly cuts him off.

"You know what?" she says, slipping off the couch, crawling between his legs. "Let's forget about the list, hmm? How about I remind you of exactly why I'm the one you chose," she smirks, rubbing her hand over his crotch suggestively.

"Uh-huh," Gerard moans, lifting his hips for Lindsey to loosen and pull down his pants, "that sounds like a plan."

She bites her lip teasingly, looking up at him with huge, innocent eyes, taking him firmly in hand.

"Oh," Gerard breathes, filling out in her skilled hand.

"You like that, huh?" Lindsey smirks, licking lightly at the head of his cock, feeling it jump excitedly.

"Shit."

That's really all the incentive she needs to suck the head into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks, relishing in Gerard's breathing becoming laboured. She swirls her tongue around the head, sucking him deeper into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks again. She bobs her head, fisting what is too big to fit into her mouth, while massaging his balls with her other hand.

"OhfuckshitLin," Gerard pants, tipping his head back. "Fuck," he moans. "So, fucking, gooood!"

Lindsey pulls out all her favourite tricks, doubling her efforts, as she can tell by Gerard's mumbling and cussing, that he's close. She pulls her mouth off, tightening her fist around him, and speeding up her jerking actions.

"Fuuuuck," Gerard groans, releasing onto her eagerly awaiting tongue. "Shit, Lin. Fuck, I love you " he breathes.

Lindsey makes a big show out of swallowing, pleased that she'd just made her point that Gerard wouldn't choose anyone over her.

"I love you too."

She crawls onto his lap, kissing him deeply and slowly, allowing him to taste himself.

"For the record," he pants, as they break the kiss, "fuck the list."


	3. Chapter 3

**[LINDSEY]**

"Fuck," Lindsey sighs deeply, suppressing a growl she can feel somewhere deep in her throat.

She still has another house to show, and the fucking family she's supposed to show it to is over fifteen minutes late. The sun is too hot on her skin as she waits for them, and she can feel frustration gnawing at her insides incessantly. It feels like she's about to crawl out of her skin, and a headache is threatening to top this all off as the shittiest day she's had in a while. Once these viewers arrive (and, knowing her luck) decide that they actually hate this house, she'll finally be free to go the fuck home. She actually wouldn't really blame them for not immediately jumping at the opportunity to invest a lot of their hard-earned money into this house. There is nothing wrong with it, per se, but it's a little plain. As an artist, it's absolutely no problem for her that the house needs a little artistic touch, since she can easily envision what the house would look like once it's received some spicing up. Viewers and potential buyers don't usually share her artistic vision, though.

She checks her watch for the time again, and notices that they are almost twenty minutes late now. If she wasn't really hoping to get this commission, she'd gladly tell the assholes to fuck right off.

Her phone buzzes with a text, and she almost laughs out loud at what she reads, because it's just the kind of irony that this day needs. The family apparently called the office to reschedule the viewing, because their youngest son is sick. How nice of them to let her know. She could have been home for a while already, even though she's pretty sure that their home is in unbound disarray, which she would need to see to, since Gerard has been quite busy ever since school started again.

"I miss my little housewife husband," she mutters sadly to herself, getting back into her car, mind set on getting home, and shedding her uncomfortable clothes. Before she inevitably has to make their living environment more tolerable, no doubt.

Because the universe apparently hates her today, the drive home isn't even a smooth one for Lindsey. Two cars actually cut her off, adding to the aggravation that she can feel bubbling right there beneath her skin; and she also almost hits a jaywalker who literally seems to come out of fucking nowhere.

"Fucking finally," she hisses through gritted teeth, finally having pulled into her driveway after what was definitely a nasty day.

Pulling the key out of the ignition, she allows herself to spend another quiet moment in the car, mentally preparing herself for what form of chaos she's likely to walk in on when she enters their little nest through that front door. Her mind provides her with vividly colourful images of mountains of dishes cluttering the kitchen, throw pillows carelessly strewn about the living room floor, the homework Gerard's busy grading carelessly covering every flat surface where he usually likes to sit and work (dining room table, kitchen counter, coffee table in the living room, their bed… Because, evidently, sticking to his desk is too mainstream for her eccentric husband), an empty coffee mug (or two) keeping every potential heap of academic chaos company (because Gerard likes to drink coffee when he grades, or does his lesson preparations). Once her mind teases her with the thought that Gerard might have even spilled some coffee somewhere on a couch or on the floor, leaving it to be cleaned up after he's done with his grading, but never getting back to it, she groans and reluctantly gets out of the car.

"Gerard?" she calls, entering their apartment, immediately stunned to notice that nothing seems to be out of order.

"In the kitchen, babes."

Lindsey has to suppress a faint gasp as she enters the kitchen, because it's nothing like she imagined it would look like at all. Everything is spotless. There isn't a single inch of the kitchen which she wouldn't feel comfortable licking, it's that clean.

"Gerard," she murmurs, still not quite over the shock.

Coy little smile on his face, Gerard dries his hands on a dishrag, hanging it back up in its place; after he's even washed the fucking dishes. He holds his arms open welcomingly to his wife, and she wastes no time being swallowed into his embrace.

"Hey, sugar," Gerard smiles, kissing her softly. "How was your day?"

Lindsey sighs, ignoring his question for the time being, pulling him into another, more lingering kiss.

"My day blew," she mutters against his lips. "But you just made it about a million times better, and I fucking love the fucking fuck out of you right now."

"Ooooh," Gerard grins. "Say fuck again."

"Mmmm," Lindsey mumbles against his lips. "Fuuuuck," she moans exaggeratedly, dragging the profanity out.

Gerard growls, picking Lindsey up, propping her up on the kitchen counter.

"You know," he says, "manual labour can really cause you to work up a serious…appetite."

"Shit," Lindsey gasps at his words as he unbuttons her blouse, pushes up her skirt, immediately pulling her panties down and off.

"Fuck," Gerard hisses. "You're good enough to eat."

He moans at the fact that her bra unclasps at the front, revealing her perfect breasts. He squeezes them roughly beneath his open palms, knowing how much she loves that, and she completely arches into it, moaning in pure delight.

Kissing a trail down her throat, between her heaving breasts and down her abdomen, he then decides to draw things out, teasing her mercilessly. He spreads her legs, but only leaves a trail of feather light kisses and nips all the way from her right ankle, up to her knee. He makes eye-contact with her, placing an open-mouthed kiss to her inner left thigh.

"Gerard," she groans, writhing beneath his touch.

He responds by smirking devilishly at her, kissing a trail down to her left knee, allowing his teeth to scrape lightly over the skin there.

"Gerard, please," she pants.

Gerard simply shifts his attention back to the right thigh, letting his teeth sink in, sucking a quite impressive hickey into her skin – just a little reminder of who she belongs to.

"Ger-" Lindsey pleads again, but cuts herself off as Gerard finally shows her some mercy, diving in to pay attention to the area longing for it the most. "Oh, Gerard, oh fuck," she gasps, completely losing herself in the feeling of his lips and his tongue on her, working their magic. "Holy shit!"

Spurred on by her exclamations of encouragement, Gerard doubles his efforts, as Lindsey buries her fingers in his hair, tugging firmly, causing Gerard to gasp against her.

"Oh, yeah," she gasps, "Fuck, Gerard, like that!"

Gerard hums and groans against her, driving her completely insane.

The little whimpering noises she makes; the way her breathing is ragged and uneven; the way she arches and writhes beneath him; and the way she growls his name as she reaches her climax, all drive Gerard into a frenzy.

"Fuck," he pants, as she slumps back against the counter, trying to catch her breath. "Shit, Lin."

He quickly fumbles his pants open, shoving his hand inside his boxers. He barely has enough time to wrap his fist firmly around his aching cock, moaning as he sucks one of Lindsey's nipples into his mouth, before he's spilling over his own fist.

"Wow," he whispers into the skin of her breast, which is still beneath his lips. "I will never tire of you, sugar."

"Mmmm," Lindsey hums, slowly gaining some control over her erratic heartbeat. "Fuck, babe! So good."

"Fuck, yeah," Gerard agrees, capturing her lips in an intense kiss; both of them moaning into it.

"Next time, though," Lindsey says as the kiss breaks for air, "I get to have at you too."

The way she says it, makes it sound like a demand and a promise rolled into one, and Gerard has absolutely no objections.

"Sorry, babe," he chuckles. "You just had me so hot. Fuck, I nearly jizzed my pants."

They chuckle and kiss, and are generally content to be in their own little blissful, post-coital bubble. They both enjoy being able to just be wrapped up in the other, with absolutely nothing to rush or disturb them; and Lindsey is more than happy that her train wreck of a day is over.

"This was just what I needed after this awful day," Lindsey whispers with her head tilted back, Gerard kissing all along her neck.

"Yeah?" Gerard murmurs into her skin. "That bad, baby?"

"Ugh," Lindsey groans. "It was the worst."

She replays every single terrible detail of her day to her amazing husband, and he thoroughly kisses every single word she utters right out of her very skin. He actually listens to her, though, asking questions at all the appropriate places.

"Know what you need?" he grins. "A night out with a remarkable stud like myself."

"Oh, yeah?" Lindsey smirks. "You reckon?"

"Just picture it," he beams. "A night filled with complete debauchery. You let your gorgeous hair down, we both consume copious amounts of alcohol, the loud music and strobe lights only flatter your beauty further…"

"Mmmm," she smirks. "I like this. Go on!"

"You release every smidgen of stress left in this breath-taking body of yours," he continues, "and I get to gloat about the fact that I'm the bastard lucky enough to bring you home. I get to pull you close, inhale your scent, kiss you slowly; watching every other soul around longing to spend even one night in my place."

"And I can make out with other guys?" Lindsey tests the water. "Driving you completely insane, in the hopes that you will get jealous enough to drag me into the slightly questionable club bathroom, fucking me into the cool tile wall as we still feel the music pulsing through us."

"Lin," Gerard groans.

"Or I can scope the club for a pretty girl, and we can both lure her in and…bring her back home?"

It comes out as a question, slightly more hesitant than either of their previous, braver suggestions.

"Lin," Gerard looks her in the eye, suddenly serious.

"Look," Lindsey says, "it was just a stupid suggestion. Let's forget about it, okay?"

"No, but," Gerard bites his lip, "this is…something you want?"

He's not hurt, or even jealous that she would want something more in their life, since they are no strangers to spicing things up to keep things hot. They are always very open about their relationship, and what they want. He is completely at ease that she wouldn't go behind his back. It is with a little pang that he has to admit that he's a bit stung that she hadn't said anything earlier. Even if they weren't actually going to do anything, he would have been totally open to talking to her about it.

"Yeah," Lindsey mutters. "No. I don't know, Gerard. Maybe?"

"Hey," he whispers, stroking his cheek, causing her to make eye-contact again. "It's okay, babe. You know we can talk."

"I know," she says honestly. "It's just… I had this really awful day, and I'm so happy to be able to come back home to you; and then we just painted this picture of a night that would definitely distract us both from the fact that we are exhausted from acting like adults all day, and I…got a little carried away."

Gerard kisses her slowly, pulling back to smile at her reassuringly.

"How about this?" he suggests. "How about we just go out tonight, and just…see what happens? We just go with the flow, and just let loose… Does that sound good?"

"That sounds perfect. Thank you."

"Love you, sugar."

"Love you too."

They decide to go to a club a little further away from where Gerard's students usually sneakily hang out, since it would be better, on both ends, if their paths didn't cross tonight.

Both of them are dressed to impress, and they can tell that they're going to have one hell of a night. The alcohol flows freely into their systems, which loosens them up, making their bodies move more freely too. They dance way too close to each other to be decent for public, but they are definitely not alone in that regard.

They are having a blast, and Lindsey has almost forgotten that she'd had a shitty day.

"I have to go to the ladies'," Lindsey says after a while, the drinks finally taking their toll on her bladder.

Gerard offers to join her in there, to which she rolls her eyes, giving him a quick kiss before she heads in the direction of the ladies' room.

Instead, Gerard decides to get them some more drinks while she's gone. As he's waiting for his order, he notices a girl out on the dance floor who looks strangely familiar. Squinting a bit, trying to place her in his mind, he notices with a bang that it's one of his students, Christine.

"Hey," Lindsey comes up to his side at the bar. "Miss me?"

"You know it," he grins, kissing her quickly.

"Who were you looking at earlier?"

"Oh," Gerard says, nodding his head in Christine's direction, where she's surrounded by who he assumes are some of her friends. "See that girl there? The one with the purple top?"

"Ooooh," Lindsey grins. "Yeah?"

"She's one of my students," Gerard informs her, somewhat amused by the way her face immediately falls (whether in disappointment, he wouldn't know, and it's moot anyway).

"No way," she frowns. "There is no way she's a minor."

"Sorry to burst your bubble, babe," Gerard smirks.

"Fuck you," Lindsey retorts weakly, cheeks tinted a little pink.

"Now _that_ we are allowed to do," Gerard promises, earning a shove to his shoulder.

"Should we just get out of here?" Lindsey asks, reluctance to do so clearly evident in her voice.

"Nah. Let's just ignore her, and hope she doesn't notice us."

"Yeah," Lindsey nods, allowing her eyes to roam about the people crowding the club.

"And if you find someone you like…" Gerard winks at her.

"Are you sure?"

"Well," Gerard bites his lip.

It is kind of a pretty big deal, but he is willing to try it again, if his wife wants to. They had tried it once before, when they were both extremely curious. That night will forever be etched into both their minds as a disaster, though.

The guy they had picked up that time was very intense, and it became clear pretty quickly that he was more into the idea of getting it on with Gerard, than he was Lindsey. Gerard, being mostly set in his heterosexuality, wasn't as into the idea, and kept trying to keep Lindsey firmly involved in the party. The guy had caught on to what Gerard was attempting to achieve, and had shifted his attention onto Lindsey. It had gone smoothly for a while after that, but then the guy took his turn fucking Lindsey, finished himself off, got up and left. Just like that.

Right then and there, Lindsey and Gerard had decided that they weren't going to try picking guys up anymore. He had felt guilty about it, since he was convinced that things would have gone a lot better if he had been a little more into men; and Lindsey felt guilty, and like she had tried to 'force a man on Gerard'. In the end, though, they had conceded that it probably just wasn't something that they were meant to do, that it just wasn't their thing. They did also decide, though, that if they ever felt like trying something like that again, that another woman might be a much safer option.

"Yeah," Gerard smiles reassuringly. "I'm sure."

Lindsey scopes the club again, her eyes landing on a pretty brunette, nursing a drink at the other end of the bar.

"What about her," she grins.

"Mmmm," Gerard hums. "I like her. Nice pick, babe."

"I know, right," Lindsey smirks. "I'm going in," she says. "I'll get her nice and comfortable, then you swoop in, charming her panties off. Sound good?"

"Sounds so good," Gerard agrees.

Gerard watches as his wife goes off to go pick their one night stand up, and is (not for the first time) overcome by how graceful, beautiful and confident she is. He watches intently as she engages the woman in a conversation, pleased to witness the both of them smiling, knowing that it means that his wife was successful in luring her in. He easily picks up on her flirting, knowing exactly what to look for, and it comes as no surprise to him when she meets his eye across the distance between them, silently beckoning.

With a smirk firmly set on his face, he confidently strides over to them, dialling his charm on as he goes.

"Hey," Gerard speaks seductively, voice velvety and alluring. "Can I interest you ladies in another round of drinks?"

Lindsey makes a point of taking Gerard's hand in hers.

"This is Bianca," Lindsey grins, placing a hand high up on the woman's thigh.

"Gerard," he grins, holding his hand out to Bianca. Instead of shaking it, though, he brings it to his lips lightly. "Delighted."

"Likewise," Bianca smiles. "And they mix a pretty good _Illusion_ around here."

"That sounds perfect," Lindsey smirks. "And I believe a round of _Pillow Talk_ would complement that quite nicely," she winks.

Bianca seems to catch on to what's happening pretty quickly, but it doesn't seem to bother her. If anything, she seems quite drawn to the idea.

Lindsey bites her lip, excited that what started out as a very horrible day could potentially turn into one of the best nights she's had in a while.


	4. Chapter 4

**[CHRISTINE]**

"No fucking way" Christine groans, because this is something she really didn't anticipate happening, and she doesn't really want it to ruin her night out with her friends.

"What's up?" Amanda sounds only about halfway concerned, while the other half of her is already playing host to alcohol (and trying to stealthily reel their friend Josh's roommate, Andrew, in for a one night stand – which she doesn't think Christine even knows about, but it's hard not to, because the alcohol is somehow eliminating all of Amanda's subtlety).

Trying not to completely lose her patience with her highly annoying best friend, Christine wordlessly points in the direction of the presence which is causing her all the mild panic.

"Ooooh," Amanda grins. "Who's that hottie? Oh, wait!" her jaw drops, and she turns back to Christine. "Is that-"

"Mr Way? Yeah."

"Oh, dude," Amanda giggles. "Way goes clubbing? Wow!"

"He's only twenty eight," Christine grits through her teeth. "It's not that weird."

Christine doesn't even really know why she's defending Mr Way, and his right to go clubbing, when she was freaking out over his presence just a moment ago.

"Do you think he's here alone?" Amanda is practically bouncing, and Christine wonders how much of that excitement stems from her alcohol consumption. "You should totally go over there."

"What?! Are you insane? I'm not going over to him! What is the matter with you?!"

"I'm just saying," Amanda holds her hands up in defence, completely ruining it with the smirk curving her lips, "Maybe he's here alone, looking for a little bit of fun? Come on! It's totally the perfect opportunity for you to get under him."

"You're crazy! He's probably here with his wife," Christine says firmly. "His gorgeous wife, whom he loves," she adds, wanting to bring her point home with her slightly inebriated best friend.

"What if he's here alone, looking for a good time, though?"

"Well, for a good time, he came to the right place," Christine points out, gesturing to their surroundings.

"Oh, for the love of fuck! You know what I mean. What if he came here tonight for a little bedroom action? Think about it," Amanda insists, sounding way too articulate for a drunken conversation, which scares Christine, because maybe she's sober after all, and Amanda is being serious this whole time. "He came to a club, all alone, and it's far enough away from home and school, so he knows that no one he knows will catch him here," which is (so far) a fair assumption, Christine has to concede, because that's the exact argument that got their underaged asses into this particular club in the first place. "Also, come on! It's so close to at least three hotels I can think of right now. He could so easily pick a girl up, take her to the hotel for a quick, dirty fuck, and bam! His secret's safe."

"Hi," Christine says, gently grabbing Amanda by her shoulders, "You're insane! Besides," she continues, not giving Amanda time to protest, "if Mr Way is a man who wants to cheat, that is not any of our business."

"It could be," Amanda smirks. "You could be the one he cheats with, which would totally make it your business. And my business, by default."

"Mr Way is not cheating, and I'm definitely not having any part of it," Christine insists. "Look," she says, gesturing towards the bar. "There is his wife now, and they're talking to a friend. See? No cheating. Now, can we please get out of here, before they catch us?"

"Yeah, okay," Amanda deflates, and Christine isn't really sure why the hell she is so disappointed, but doesn't say anything about it.

"Come on," she says instead. "Let's go find the others, and get out of here."

It turns out that none of the others feel like getting out of there yet, and most of them are allowed to be there anyway, being legal, and all. That just pisses Christine off, because that leaves her and Amanda to fend for themselves. Sometimes, she hates her friends. They can't stick around, though, and risk getting caught by a teacher, even if it is only Mr Way. They need to get out. They can't go back to Christine's place, though, because her parents aren't expecting her back until the next afternoon, and would demand a serious explanation if she turned up at home in the middle of the night. They can't go back to Amanda's place, either, because it's too far, and her parents are even stricter than Christine's.

"We only have one option left," Christine announces dejectedly, knowing Amanda is not going to like the suggestion. "We have to call Brian."

"Your creepy neighbour?" Amanda shrieks. "No way! I'd rather whore myself out for a place to sleep tonight," she crosses her arms. "Fuck! I'd even rather call my parents, and risk them sending me to a Catholic school," she hisses, "but there is no way I'm calling Brian."

"We can't deal with you being a bitch right now, Manda," Christine says almost pleadingly. "Brian is not creepy, and he'd give us a place to stay tonight. He won't tell my parents, and he won't judge, or ask stupid parental questions."

"I don't know, hun," Amanda says, but Christine can already see her giving in.

"We'll be safe, we won't be in any trouble, and Brian is cute," Christine says hopefully, revelling in the smile she can see forcing its way onto Amanda's lips.

"Call him," Amanda sighs, rolling her eyes as Christine squeals and hugs her. "You so owe me," she adds.

"You know, I'm pretty sure Brian is single."

Amanda rolls her eyes again, but her cheeks are totally tinted pink, so Christine smirks quietly to herself, dialling Brian's number.

"Brian says he can be here in half an hour," Christine says, hanging up.

"That's it," Amanda replies, "Let's just kill time drinking while we wait for him."

They go back inside, heading straight for the bar Mr Way hadn't been at earlier, but upon quick inspection, he doesn't seem to be around anywhere, anyway. He's gone, along with his wife, and the friend they were talking to. Thank fuck!

At the bar, though, two shots quickly turn into three, turning into six, and pretty soon they're not really counting the shots anymore, and they spend so long giggling over the way Christine's phone vibrates when Brian calls her, that they don't get to answer it before it stops, ringing again almost immediately.

When it rings again, Amanda grabs it from Christine, who is giggling too hard to protest.

"You've reached Luscious Lola's Loveline," she breathes into the phone. "How may I service you?"

"Give me my phone, you fucking weirdo," Christine giggles, grabbing her phone back, answering it herself. "Luscious Lola, at your service," she says as seriously as possible, given her current state. "Please excuse my assistant, she needs to get spectacularly laid."

"Christine?" she can hear Brian chuckling on the other end.

"Oh, Brian!" she squeals happily, "you came to rescue us!"

"I did," he agrees. "Are you ladies okay to come out, or do I need to come get you?"

Brian meets them just outside the club, and he pretty much has his hands full getting them back into the car, and to his place. He nearly loses control of the car at one point, because Amanda (riding shotgun), is practically all over the guy in her drunken state. They make it there without any casualties, though.

"Okay," he says seriously once they've finally made it safely to his home, "shut the fuck up while we're getting out of the car, because I'm pretty sure your parents would recognise your voices. You can go nuts once we're inside again. Okay?"

They keep mostly quiet, apart from the way they can't stop giggling, until the front door is safely closed and locked behind them.

"Wow," Amanda breathes. "I like your house, Bri."

Christine is giggling to herself at the way Amanda can't seem to stop touching Brian, and excuses herself to go to the bathroom. Brian seems like a guy who can handle himself (against an underaged girl, at least), so she doesn't feel bad about not rescuing him. She's not even particularly convinced that he actually really needs rescuing, if the way he's subtly touching Amanda back is any indication.

She just sincerely hopes that there won't be too many hungover regrets in the morning.

Returning from the bathroom, she's met with the sight of Brian on the couch, Amanda squirming in his lap. They're making out sloppily, and she can see Brian's hands on Amanda's skin beneath her shirt.

"Oh," she says dumbly, freezing in the doorway. "Uhm."

"Oops!" Amanda giggles, quickly scrambling out of Brian's lap. "Sorry."

She doesn't sound or look all that sorry, especially since she's still beaming as she's surreptitiously straightening out her outfit, but Christine decides to let it go, as Brian is already getting up from the couch, showing Christine to his guestroom, handing her a shirt to sleep in.

"Thanks," she smiles at him, raising one eyebrow at Amanda, which she knows she can translate just fine. Amanda just replies with a telling smirk, so she just adds "Goodnight."

She barely has her clothes off, and Brian's shirt on, crawling into his surprisingly comfortable guestroom bed, when she hears a really loud moan ripped from Amanda's throat. It's answered by a low grunt, and a few expletives from Brian, and what she's assuming is the headboard of Brian's bed banging on the wall.

"Wow," she mutters to herself, doing her best to try and force the image of her best friend and neighbour fucking out of her mind, until they finally stop (with Amanda screaming way too loudly), and sleep eventually takes her under.

It feels like Christine has barely been asleep for two seconds, when she's harshly woken up by Amanda poking her repeatedly.

"What is wrong with you?" she moans. "Why are you awake? And why are you torturing me?"

"Come on," Amanda hisses, sounding kind of desperate. "We have to get out of here. Now."

"What? Why?" Christine frowns, reluctantly sitting up, as sleep is clearly not on the table for her anymore, rubbing her hands over her face.

"Brian and I slept together last night."

"Really?" Christine snorts. "I missed that."

"This is no time for jokes, bitch!" Amanda insists. "This is a problem!"

_Oh, for fuck's sake!_

"Why?"

"Because he's your creepy neighbour," Amanda hisses. "We have to get out of here before he wakes up."

"Dude, he is not creepy, and you certainly didn't seem to mind him when you were having sex with him last night," Christine says calmly. "And we can't just leave without saying anything. The dude really helped us out last night."

Amanda opens her mouth like she wants to protest again, but Christine doesn't give her the opportunity.

"And don't say that you were drunk, because you went out with the intention of getting some last night. Maybe not necessarily with Brian, but still. Plus, my head is still killing me, and I want to sleep. Either get in here, and sleep some of your craziness off, or be a grown up about it, and go back to Brian. Either way, let me sleep."

"I hate you sometimes," Amanda sighs, crawling into bed next to Christine.

When they wake up again, it's to Brian bringing them coffee. Christine thinks she does a wonderful job of not giving Amanda shit for the way her cheeks are flushed, and she's not making eye-contact with him.

"Thanks," she smiles gratefully at Brian, which Amanda echoes weakly.

He washes their clothes from last night, to rid them of the awful smell of second-hand smoke from the club, while he makes them pancakes for brunch. They end up hanging around there until Brian has to go over to a friend, Matt; and Christine kind of wants to apologise to the poor guy for the way Amanda is acting as if nothing happened last night, like the stupid stubborn person she is.

Amanda goes home shortly after they get back to Christine's, since her mother calls, and apparently they have to go to a family thing at her uncle's place, which she'd kind of hoped to avoid it, but her mother evidently has no mercy.

Christine spends the rest of the weekend with her parents, doing homework, and watching series.

On Monday morning, she goes to school with as much enthusiasm as one could expect. And it's only when she's on her way to art that she's reminded of the fact that they'd seen Mr Way and his wife out on Friday night. She's not really sure how to feel about it, but she's definitely not going to bring it up. If they're lucky, maybe he didn't even notice them.

"Christine," he says at the end of class, though, completely shattering any last hope she'd had. "Can I please have a quick word?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Christine**

_Well, fuck,_ Christine thinks. _I'm screwed._

Her heart is beating fast as she watches the rest of the class clear out, and she sincerely hopes that Mr Way isn't going to be a dick about catching them at that club on Friday night. She is fully aware of the fact that they were absolutely not allowed to be there, by any means, but…come on! Everyone does it! Mr Way isn't that much older than them. Shouldn't he remember what it was like to sneak around and party with his friends, going out, and just having a good time? Clearly, going out to places like that is still something he enjoys. Shouldn't he be more understanding?

"Ah, Christine," Mr Way smiles at her (and, seriously, he must be enjoying torturing her like this. Fuck, she never had him pegged as an asshole) when Cathy Anderson (who always has a million and twenty six pointless questions to ask the teachers after class) is finally out of the way. Christine has about a split second to think that Mr Way is probably the only teacher who doesn't visibly get annoyed with the girl, before his voice brings her crashing back to agonising reality. "Do you have a quick moment?" he smiles politely, while having absolutely no business being that fucking good-looking. "I wanted to discuss something with you."

"Sure," Christine forces out, sounding much calmer than she feels, with her heart about to burst out her mouth, all over her favourite purple shirt (which would probably look cooler than it would feel, to the artist in her, at least).

"This is something I'd rather keep between us, for the time being, because-" he starts, but Christine snaps, and cuts him off, because her brain-to-mouth filter has a giant crack in it, allowing words to just leak out.

"Mr Way, if this is about Friday, is there absolutely no way we can pretend it never happened?" the words tumble from her mouth ungracefully. "I know we weren't supposed to be there, but you remember what it was like to be young, don't you?" her eyes widen as she realises what the hell she just said. "Fuck," she groans. "I didn't mean to say that. And I didn't mean to say 'fuck'. Shit, I said 'fuck' again. Ah, damn it!"

"Christine?" Mr Way says politely, smiling a small smile at her, not really trying to conceal his amusement, which is so mortifyingly unfair because she's pretty sure she's going to burst into flames at any second. "Is it okay if I try talking again?"

Not trusting her mouth at all, she simply nods, hoping that this will be over soon, so she can go crawl into a hole somewhere to die. She just implied that her gorgeous art teacher is old, and probably deserves death for it…

"Okay," he smiles again, and shit, he really is gorgeous! "I kind of slipped up. See, I was supposed to gather portfolios from five senior students as part of my evaluation, and I completely forgot. It's also my responsibility to set up an entire exhibit, consisting of their work, which the board will have a full portfolio done on – I'm not completely sure by who yet, though."

"Oh," Christine says dumbly, immensely relieved that this has absolutely nothing to do with where she and her friends had found themselves on Friday night, but internally cringing for opening her stupid mouth about it at all. "Is that it? You need me to- I mean-"

"Well, yes, I was hoping you'd be one of the five unlucky students who would be willing to have their nerves ripped to shreds by this," Mr Way smirks, which Christine thinks is completely unfair.

"Are you kidding?" she exclaims. "I'd love to do it! I mean," she bites her lip nervously, "it would be nerve-wrecking, but I'm assuming you'll be there to help us out, right?"

"That goes without saying," he grins. "And I'm so glad you're on board for this. You're perfect!"

"Hardly," Christine mumbles, then immediately wishes she hadn't, because he obviously meant that her work would be perfect for the showcase, and now she just runs the risk of seeming like she has no confidence in her art, or that she's fishing for compliments, which is not the case.

"Oh, I think so," he says lowly, and his smirk seems even more suggestive than it did a minute ago.

Christine suddenly feels that they are standing too close together for her comfort, and really wishes that she could just run out of the classroom without looking suspicious, or like too much of an idiot.

"I-" she starts, but really has no idea how to follow up on that.

"Oh, come on," Mr Way coaxes. "It comes with a big, fat college recommendation letter. Please don't think of backing out of it now."

"Fuck," Christine breathes. "Really?"

"Well," Mr Way chuckles, "I know how to take care of my students, so of course it fucking does."

"Ugh, I said 'fuck' again, didn't I?" she blushes, ready to spontaneously combust at any second, only affected more by his seemingly careless words.

"You did," he grins, clearly enjoying her misery, and completely unrepentant.

"Shit, I'm sorry," she says, groaning as she realises she'd said 'shit' again too.

"Don't worry," he suddenly says into her ear, which is just playing dirty, in her opinion. "I like my women with a bit of a mouth on them."

Christine is suddenly hit by a fresh wave of panic. Is Mr Way planning to have his dirty way with her, in return for keeping quiet about where they'd been on Friday? Does she really want that to be kept a secret that badly? Shit, and now all she can think about is approximately thirty rude references Amanda had made to Mr Way (and his crotch) – and that's only in the past five days. Fuck!

"I- what?" she says, the words sounding more panicked than she's comfortable with.

"Okay," Mr Way sighs. "Look, let's just get this whole thing about Friday night out of the way, okay? Maybe then you'll stop looking at me like I'm about to hit you over the head with a hammer. You didn't expect a teacher to catch you there, I assume? Well, my wife and I went there, because we didn't expect to see any of you students there. Obviously, there was a giant flaw in the system."

"So," Christine murmurs hesitantly, "so you did see us?"

"Yes, Christine, I'm afraid so. I had no idea you had seen us, though. When we saw you, we were actually hoping to avoid exactly this, but…" he shrugs lightly.

"I don't see what the big issue is, anyway," Christine sighs. "I mean, you were just out having a drink with your wife and friend, and my friends and I were just out having a good time. I don't get why this has to turn into such a massive…thing, you know?"

"I know," Mr Way says, "but, Christine, honey, you have to understand that there are some fucking sickos out there, okay?" And apparently they're just cursing in front of each other now. Fuck, that's weird. "You and your friends think you're simply dressing up pretty, going out to have fun, but those sick bastards think they can try scoring easily. Shit, I sound like a fucking after school special, huh?" he grins sheepishly. "Fuck, just ignore me."

_Did he really say that she and her friends dressed up pretty? He thought she looked pretty? Fuck!_

"No, it's cool, Mr Way," Christine smiles. "You're, ah, right, but-"

"But you're young and wanna have fun, and you don't want an old art teacher spoiling it. I know. I get it. I just wanted to get this all out of the way, so you won't look at me like I'm about to attack you with a chainsaw when you're not paying attention."

"You just upgraded from hammer to chainsaw," Christine grins. "Is there something you're not telling me, Mr Way?"

Fuck! Those words just sounded way too suggestive, and if it were anyone else (anyone appropriate) that would have totally been viewed as blatant flirting.

"Well," he says, using that low tone of voice again, which is seriously turning Christine the fuck on, "I have plenty of secrets I haven't shared with you. For example, I'm actually a woman. Shh, don't tell on me, okay?"

"Aww," Christine grins, "I actually think you'd make a hot woman."

And, holy fucking shit, she didn't mean to say that either!

"Thanks," Mr Way grins. "Hey, being beautiful is a burden, but we just have to grit our teeth and bear it, right?" he winks.

_And, okay, wow! Is Mr Way actually fucking flirting back? Are they just _flirting_ now?_

"We're strong enough to handle it," she says easily, no idea where the hell her confidence to do this is coming from.

"Thank fuck," Mr Way agrees. "And sassy enough."

Christine is about to make a comment about how he definitely out-sasses her, which is luckily interrupted by his phone ringing, because she's pretty sure she's already crossed the line of inappropriate with this man – her fucking art teacher – enough for one day.

"Sorry," Mr Way says. "It's my brother."

"It's cool," she smiles. "I'll see you in class, Mr Way. Oh, and I'll start getting my portfolio sorted."

"Thanks, again," he smiles.

"No problem. Bye, Mr Way. Have a good evening."

"Thanks, Christine. Same to you."

Walking out of the classroom, and all the way home, Christine can't get her mind around what the fuck just happened. Flirting with your art teacher (and having him flirt back) just isn't something that happens to people. Fuck, Amanda is going to have a field day with it, if she ever finds out.

**Gerard**

"Hey, Mikes, what's up?" Gerard answers his phone, strangely grateful that the phone call is successfully aborting what would have definitely been one hell of an awkward situation, if it hadn't been stopped.

"You wanna have a bros' night?" is all Mikey offers, completely monotone, not even extending a greeting.

"Alicia driving you crazy with wedding plans again?" Gerard smirks, not even bothering to be subtle about it. Mikey is beyond whipped, and there is absolutely no denying it.

"It's not even funny," Mikey says seriously. "I actually have opinions and suggestions of my own on everything. I'm seriously turning into a woman over here."

"I'm sure it's not that bad, Mikes."

"Dude, we're one centrepiece away from becoming a lesbian couple."

"Oooohh," Gerard coos. "The missus has you looking at centrepieces, huh? Tell me, did you pick roses or daisies?"

"Lilies," Mikey groans.

"Shit, man," Gerard laughs. "We're going out for some beers tonight. First round's on me."

"Damn straight," Mikey says seriously. "Pick me up at seven, fucker!"

"With an attitude like that, don't expect me to put out tonight, Michaela," Gerard retorts, knowing it will shut Mikey up.

"Ew, fuck you," Mikey replies, and Gerard can practically see the disgusted face he's pulling, which delights him to no end.

"Love you too, asshole," Gerard smirks, hanging up.

He's so grateful that the day is over, because Mondays always seem to last twice as long as other days. Mikey's brief phone call only serves to distract him up to a certain point, though.

Of course, there is no actual way his subconscious is going to allow him to live down what he'd just done. Shit, he'd just actively flirted with one of his _students_. One of his best students, at that. The fact that she'd flirted back, and he'd neglected to discourage it (instead, pressed things a bit further), only makes matters that bit more problematic. It doesn't matter that he'd had no real intention of following through with anything, or allowed the flirting to amount to absolutely anything at all. No, that's probably even worse, because he could have semi-unintentionally given the poor girl some seriously false hope. If he's being completely honest with himself, Gerard has to relent that Christine would probably be the one student he'd pick out of the bunch, given the opportunity, to get a little down and dirty with. That fact brings him absolutely no comfort, though. Quite the contrary.

"Shit," he mutters to himself, dragging his fingers through his hair.

He's painfully aware of the wedding band's weight on his ring finger, and that seems to ground him a little. He's beyond lucky to have the love and devotion of his amazing wife. She's absolutely perfect for him, and so much better than he'll ever deserve.

Suddenly, all he can think of is going home to his gorgeous wife, and devouring every inch of her naked skin, before he spends the evening with his baby brother.

**Lindsey**

Sometimes, there is no feeling better than getting home a little early, especially after a taxing day at work. It doesn't happen very often that Lindsey is home before Gerard, so she enjoys that little fact too. She loves when she's able to completely shed the load of her day, before he even gets home, so she can be there to help him relax. She relishes hearing all about his day, and generally just can't get enough of spending time with him.

It amazes her, sometimes, how she can still be so completely in love with the man, like they only just started going out last week. She doubts she'll ever get sick of the little giddy, fluttery feeling in her chest when he smiles, or the way her heart races when they're making love.

_God must really love me_, she thinks happily, _giving me Gerard_.

She kicks off her shoes, loosens her hair from the neat bun she kept it in today, discards her jewellery, and takes off her pretty yellow bra, tossing it in the general direction of their bed. Smiling happily to herself, she heads towards the kitchen for some coffee. Checking the time, she notices Gerard should be home soon, so she makes sure there's enough for him too.

Barely halfway into her mug of heavenly coffee (and, let it be known, she still blames her addiction to the substance on her darling husband), Gerard arrives home.

"Hey, babe," she greets happily, but Gerard doesn't even spare her a few words of greeting (or even steal the last of her coffee, which is curious).

It's lucky Lindsey placed the mug on the coffee table when Gerard entered the living room, because what he does would have probably sent the mug crashing to the ground in pieces (which would've sucked, because it's her precious purple mug). In a swift movement, he's in front of her, where she's sitting on the comfortable black leather couch, and unceremoniously hiking her plain dark grey skirt up. Still without even a single word, he makes quick work of removing her panties, and spares her but a moment of sultry eye-contact, before spreading her legs, and diving right in.

"Fuck," Lindsey breathes. "Warn a girl, babe. Oh, shit!"

"Mmmm," Gerard hums into her sensitive skin, and her body is responding to his advances immediately.

"Oh, Gerard, yeah," she groans.

It should probably be impossible (even a bit embarrassing) for her to get so wet from his actions so quickly, but there is no denying the man's pure talent. He never fails to amaze her, with how well he seems to know his way around her body, simply going on the response she gives. He's so attentive, and always pulls out the little stops that reduces her to a shuddering mess, without fail.

"Fuck," she moans, hips shifting up minutely, in response to the slow, firm drag of his tongue over her clit, but he grabs her hips firmly, hard enough to bruise, and holds her down against the couch. "Oh, shit, babe."

"Fuck, Lin," Gerard lifts his head to growl, dark eyes boring into her own. "I'm so addicted to you."

And then he dives back in so fast, that it nearly makes her dizzy, causing her breath to hitch.

"Mmmm," she chokes out, barely above a breath. "Fuck yeah."

She threads her fingers into his hair, gently keeping his head where it is, as he hums against her skin, driving her insane.

Another deliberate lick, then he gets a proper hold on her skin, and starts to suck, simultaneously surprising her by pressing two fingers into her, immediately fucking her hard and fast with them.

Her whole body is heating up, and she's not sure how much longer she can stand it. She has no idea how long they've even been at it – a minute? Six hours? Fuck, all she knows is that it just feels so good.

"Mmmm," Gerard hums, pulling away to look her in the eyes again, keeping the steady rhythm of his fingers going. "You gonna lose it for me, babe? Gonna show me how much you appreciate this?" And, fuck, his voice is so low and enticing, she has no defences. "Gonna come for me?"

"Oh, shit," she breathes, and she's completely gone, shuddering in ecstasy, as Gerard hungrily licks her through it. "Fuck," she slumps back into the couch, trying to regain her breathing.

Wow! She hasn't had an orgasm this strong, from just his mouth (and barely his fingers), in a while; and she feels a little boneless.

"Mmmm," she hums appreciatively, eyes closed in pure bliss, as he lightly kisses her way up her arm, shoulder and neck. "Hey," she grins, as their eyes finally meet again.

"Hey," Gerard chuckles, kissing her quickly, softly.

"So that was a nice surprise."

Gerard's cheeks turn a little pink, even as he grins at her, and she's so in love with this man, it hurts.

"Yeah, I, fuck, just really needed that, I guess," he responds.

"Yeah?" Lindsey drawls, pulling Gerard properly onto the couch, getting his pants undone, immediately shoving her hand inside. "Rough day? Wanna tell me about it?"

"Yes," Gerard agrees, "but, ugh, this first."

Lindsey doesn't deny him that. Pulling him into a heated kiss, she wraps her hand around him tightly, stroking him off hard and fast (like she knows he's desperate for). Her grip on his cock is just tight enough, and she pays the head just enough attention, to have him coming quickly enough for her to feel a little victorious.

"Shit," he groans, clutching her tightly to him. "I fucking love you."

"Good," Lindsey grins, still feeling like a bit of a stud. "I fucking love you too."

Gerard grabs her hand, wiping it off on his shirt, which she sighs at, because she's going to have to wash that, not him; but she doesn't say anything.

"So how was your day?" Gerard asks as soon she's dragged him comfortably onto cosy couch to snuggle.

"Uneventful. Yours?"

"Uhm," Gerard chuckles nervously, "not quite uneventful."

Lindsey raises a perfect eyebrow at him, silently ordering him to continue, knowing that he's probably going to try to figure the secret behind that little power she possesses out until the day he dies (which he's never going to succeed in, but she enjoys watching him continuously try, all the same).

"I, uhm," he says awkwardly. "I kinda teased a student today. Like, just now, before I left school."

"What are you talking about?" Lindsey asks, sitting up to face Gerard properly.

"After class," Gerard sighs, "I had Christine stay behind a moment, to discuss the art showcase thing with her, which is something I should've done long ago, but I slipped up. Anyway, so she thought I kept her after class to give her shit about her and her friends being out at that club on Friday night, so I panicked, and things kinda lead to innocent flirting, since I didn't want to appear too freaked out, and-"

"Gerard?" Lindsey says firmly. "Babe, breathe, come on."

"I'm sorry," Gerard exhales. "I have no idea where the flirting came from. I just really hope she shrugs it off as nothing. Fuck."

"You say it was innocent, right?" Lindsey soothes, stroking his arm reassuringly. "I'm sure it was nothing. Maybe she didn't even consider it."

"Fuck, I hope so," Gerard sighs. "I don't wanna be turned in for inappropriate activity with underage students, especially if nothing happened."

"You won't, okay?" she gently strokes his cheek, giving him a reassuring smile. "Just," she bites her lip, "they saw us on Friday?"

"Yeah," Gerard winces. "She mentioned seeing the pair of us having a drink with a friend, and how it should be our right to do so."

"Fuck," Lindsey murmurs. "You don't think…"

"Nah," Gerard says. "I don't think she would have said anything, if she knew we brought Bianca home and fucked her. She's smarter than that."

"Are you sure? Gee, we gotta be more careful, if we don't want shit like this to be displayed all over the place. It's not exactly anybody's business, and I wanna keep it that way. Maybe we should stick to being more exclusive, and socially acceptable."

"Shit," Gerard mumbles. "Lin, I…" he bites his lip. "Look, I understand you are bi, and thus have this whole other side to you, which I can't exactly tend to, and I-"

"Gerard?" Lindsey gasps, mildly taken aback by his words. "You really think I need that? Fuck, Gerard, I chose you. I _married_ you! Sure, I enjoy women, no point in lying about that, but, Gerard," she sighs, threading her fingers with his own, "I enjoy them so much more when you're a part of it. I get off on the way you admire me when I'm with them, or the way they respond to you when you're driving them crazy. In the end, it always comes right back to you. Don't you know that?"

"Lin," Gerard murmurs, pulling her into a kiss, and she goes easily, allowing herself to be kissed. "What did I ever do to deserve you?" he mumbles against her lips.

"We both got pretty lucky," she grins, making him chuckle.

And, fuck, she's never going to get over how great it feels knowing they'll be okay. Always.

"Yeah," he whispers, taking her bottom lip between his teeth. "Fuck," he groans, as her phone buzzes obnoxiously on the coffee table, putting a little damper on the moment.

"I'm sorry," Lindsey says, reaching to switch it off. "Let me just- oh," she frowns. "It's my mom."

"Answer it," Gerard says, finally reaching for Lindsey's forgotten coffee (which took him much longer to do than she expected, if she's being honest), grimacing at the no doubt cold, unsatisfying taste.

"Hey, ma," she answers cheerily. "What's u-" her mother cuts her off with words she never wanted to hear in her life. "Oh, shit! Really? Fuck, uhm… Yeah, I'll try to make arrangements to come as soon as possible, okay?"

"Shit," she cries, after hanging up with her mother.

"What's up, babe?" Gerard immediately wraps her up in his arms, and she feels so safe there, and wishes he could take it all away for her. "What happened?"

"Dad's in the hospital," she sobs. "He had a heart attack."


End file.
